


D(r)own in the Abyss

by nopixiera



Category: Bleach
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Depression, Gen, Loneliness, Open to Interpretation, Post-Time Skip, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 22:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19876996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nopixiera/pseuds/nopixiera
Summary: The hollow feeling in his chest is achingly familiar.





	D(r)own in the Abyss

The _hollow_ feeling in his chest is achingly familiar.

Ichigo absentmindedly rubs his arms to try chase away the _cold._ He remembers feeling the exact same 8 years ago- a helpless child crying over his mothers’ corpse, freezing in the pouring rain but ultimately numb down to the core. Some part of him deep, deep down, had never really thawed. He feels much the same now.

The walk back from school had been quiet _(empty)_ and uneventful _(lonely)_. As the distance left to home _(?)_ shortened, Ichigo slowed his pace to a crawl. The sight of Kurosaki Clinic no longer evoked feelings of peace in him, if anything, it felt like walking into a cell. Suffocating. The house would be empty right now anyway. Yuzu would be busy with the new clubs she joined and Karin with football practice. Even Isshin wouldn’t be home.

Ichigo frowned. Was he taking this denial thing too far? He knew very well that Yuzu wasn’t engaged in clubs and that Karin only had practice on weekends. He also knew that being a Shinigami in hiding Isshin didn’t have a lot of places to go. Of course, they would all be at Urahara’s. Just like his friends _(were they even friends? temporary allies? convenient accomplices?)_ who had conveniently disappeared in the middle of History to go to the bathroom and hadn’t returned to school since. Ichigo sighed, ran a hand through his hair and continued walking.

_Who would want come back to a lifeless ** ~~haven~~ ~~home~~ place**?_

His legs walk him to a familiar river bank. Ichigo felt like he had come here more often in the past two years than he had in his entire life.

Two years.

Two years since he’d lost his powers.

Two years his mind echoed with silence.

Two years he’d waited for someone to help him.

Ichigo doesn’t blame anyone for this situation _(perhaps, it’d be more accurate to say that Ichigo blamed himself for not being **more** )._ After all, he willingly sacrificed himself to protect the peopled he loved. And they were all safe right now, weren’t they? Safe and happy and protected and so far away from his reach that they might as well not exist in the same realm _(because they didn’t)._

So, no. Ichigo didn’t blame anyone _(himself)_. He didn’t feel regret, none at all. He just felt _tired_. He’d noticed it a few months into his imposed exile. A bone deep sense of weariness that pulled and tugged at the remaining fraction of his soul until it felt like he was falling apart. At first, he wasn’t too concerned. Of course, sacrificing two-thirds of his soul would come with side effects _(of course it would)._ He should’ve seen this coming, really. But even as Ichigo prepared to deal with his symptoms _(sluggishness, insomnia, no appetite, slow reaction times)_ he knew it wasn’t that easy. This wasn’t some bout of depression- chronic or otherwise. This wasn’t even something like reiatsu exhaustion. This was his soul fading away.

Ichigo gracefully lowered himself onto the dewy grass. Or at least, he liked to think it looked graceful, because it certainly didn’t feel like it. He didn’t bother sitting up anymore, instead, falling down onto his back. Everything suddenly felt _heavy_. The bag still on his shoulder, the clothes on his body, **_the absolute silence._**

Blearily looking up at the sky, Ichigo decided to give himself a few minutes of reprieve, the quiet in his sleep was preferable to the silence that surrounded him awake.

Ichigo closed his eyes.

_(Ichigo wouldn’t know what a macabre picture he painted, lying in the spot his mother died protecting him. Pale skinned, too unmoving. He wouldn’t know the shockhorrorterror jolted through the one who’d found him. He wouldn’t know of the uneasiness that ran through the Shinigami ranks when news of his state reached them, nor the guilt that his friends and family would drown themselves in. He’d remain entirely unaware of the self-loathing and futility Kisuke would feel upon gazing down at his form speared through a with sword brimming with the reiatsu in a desperate last ditch attempt to save him)_

No, Ichigo wouldn’t know much of anything at all.

He was too busy drowning in the cold abyss he’d made for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first fanfic ever! This story was written in an hour or so and is my first attempt at writing anything fictional. I hope you enjoyed it (even if it is a little sad). I might continue this story later or retell it from a different POV if people find it interesting enough.


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